Page 62 of Every Now and Then
I can almost feel her reluctance through the phone, but I don’t want her driving late at night. When I saw her at the hospital, she was so overwrought that she could hardly stand. Combine that exhaustion with an adrenaline crash, and she’ll be dead on her feet, having no business making the long drive home.
Me
I have plenty of room, and it’ll be fun.
Annabelle
If you don’t mind, that sounds great.
After the girls finish as much of their sundaes as they can eat, I take them back to their house to pack for our impromptu slumber party.
“You’re not kidnapping us, are you?” Grace inquires, dawdling at the front door of their house as I flip through the keys on Annabelle’s key ring until I locate the key that slides smoothly into the lock.
A chuckle breaks free from my chest. Ruffling Grace’s hair, I reassure her. “No, sweet pea. But if you’re worried, we can call your mom.”
A gross look crosses her face. “Sweet pea?”
“It’s a type of flower—”
“I know what it is, Mr. Hayes, but youcannotcall me that.” She leans closer to me, whispering, "It sounds like you're calling me urine."
My grin widens. This kid kills me. “Noted, Grace. Grab everything you’ll need to spend the night at my place. I have an indoor heated pool at my condo, so pack your swimsuits. Meanwhile, I’ll pack your mom a bag.”
Grace grimaces and points to her younger sister. “I can do that, but you’ll need to help Claire pack. Trust me. She can’t do it herself.”
Claire catches me off-guard by lowering her shoulder and rushing toward her older sister like a bull charging a matador. Claire seems so sweet and docile, but she’s got a tough side to her, too. Much like her mama.
“Whoa, there, tiger,” I say, picking the tyke up and swinging her around before she can take down her sister. “Grace, I think Claire can pack for herself. Right, Claire?” My faith in Claire’s abilities is rewarded with another dimpled smile and an enthusiastic nod.
As Grace retreats to her room, I hear her mutter, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Mr. Hayes.”
With the girls in their respective rooms, I walk through Annabelle’s bedroom and into her closet. I grab some clothes and throw everything in a tote bag I find hanging in the closet. Opening the dresser drawers, I find what I’m looking for and add it to the bag. My fingers linger over her lacy undergarments, but I force myself to focus and stop pawing at her panties.
From there, I walk into the attached bathroom to grab her toiletries. A familiar bottle sitting on the ledge of her bathtub catches my eye. It's a travel-sized bottle of the body wash I use. The cap is off, and the bottle is almost empty.
A bottle that was full when I lost it at Tank's Motel and Tavern a year ago.
That little vixen. She stole my body wash, I smile to myself.
Once I finish packing the essentials for Annabelle, I head toward the girls’ rooms to see how they’re coming along. Claire meets me in the hallway with a large bag and her pillow. Together we walk into Grace’s room to find her folding her pile of clothes with care before reverently tucking each item into a small rolling suitcase. “Alright, I’m all packed,” she exclaims once she’s zipped it up. “You may want to check Claire’s bag, Mr. Hayes.”
“Grace, you can call me Ruston or Hayes. No need to keep calling me Mr. Hayes.” Eyeing Claire’s large bag with suspicion, I decide to heed Grace’s suggestion. “Claire, let’s see what you packed, okay?”
“Okay, Wusty,” she replies with her adorable speech impediment that makes it difficult for her to say her R sound.
Well, Grace was right, and by the giant smile upon her face, she knew she would be. The contents of Claire’s bag include a stack of books, three pairs of underwear, two teddy bears, an iPad chargingcord but no iPad, a small container of turtle food, one winter jacket, and a mermaid costume. Rather than unpack her bag, I rummage through Claire’s dresser drawers and bathroom cabinets to find the items that she’ll need—a swimsuit, pajamas, a school uniform for tomorrow, toothbrush, and her hairbrush—and add them to her bag.
After arriving at my condo, we spent the next hour playing in the pool, which I thought would be a great way for them to burn off all the sugar they ingested at the ice cream parlor. But based on how rambunctious the girls are, I’m more tired than either of them by the time we leave the pool. Wrapped in towels, we ride the elevator up to my penthouse as we discuss dinner plans. I try to remember what prepared meals I have in the freezer and name a few options.
“Thursday is pizza night. You know how some people do Taco Tuesday every week? Well, we do Pizza Thursday. Do you think we could make homemade pizza? If we can’t make it, could we order it? In fact, ordering it might be easier and faster for you.”
Claire’s eyes light up at her older sister’s suggestion. “Yes! Pizza sounds so yummy, Wusty.”
“Pizza it is then, girls. What do you like on your pizza? Pepperoni? Sausage?”
“I like pepperoni, but Claire will only eat cheese pizza. We always share a half-cheese, half-pepperoni pizza.”
As we wait for our pizzas to be delivered, the girls take a quick shower together while I hover in the hallway like a nervous nelly. Can kids drown in the shower?What if one of them slips and falls? I’ve never taken care of kids before, so I’m winging it. But it’s nerve-wracking to be responsible for the well-being of two little humans.
